Living Our Language_ Ojibwe Tales & Oral Histories - Anton Treuer [29]
The Judge and the Indian
[1] I was raised over there until the time of the big war, World War II as it was called. That was probably the time when I left. When I went away from there, it was like I was going around in search of ways to support myself. This was a long time before those Indians had a good understanding of that American language. They were over there. They didn’t hear things right when something was said to them.
[2] It was always the case at that point in time, maybe around 1937, 1938, that some Indians were truly chronic drinkers, getting drunk. And once in a while they got caught fighting one another and were thus imprisoned. And that’s how fighting was when they boxed someone. Then that one man was taken away. He was really a good fighter, the one taken away to Grantsburg. They were usually brought there when they were locked up. He must have been brought over there, that man. He did not understand very well. Later he would speak English. Now he was brought there when he would be indicted. As he stood there it was read by the judge. He was told at length what the reason for his imprisonment was. He was informed by the judge, “You’re charged with assault and battery,” he said, so the story goes.
[3] As he looked at that judge, “Oh baloney, I never stole any salt or battery,” he told him, so the story goes. That’s how he understood [the charge]. That’s how I heard it over there, listening about how he was indicted.
Berry Picking
[1] I speak about all sorts of things, telling stories from time to time. That grandmother of mine, my father’s mother, that was my grandma, the one we always accompanied as we were always at her house. We really loved her. That old lady told stories there.
[2] Then one time someone asked me about how the Indian people did things, how he stored away things he wanted to eat after [harvest], such as the variety of things that ripen—chokecherries and blueberries. These are the things I was asked about, how they customarily prepared things. Then I spoke about them, different stories of my grandmother, maybe about when we went berry picking ourselves and the different places she got blueberries. One time she had already told us to spread them out in the sun on the top of the house here. Their houses were built low to the ground so we spread them out on top of the roof. And whenever we saw those little birds, we startled them away so they wouldn’t eat them. The blueberries were dried here at that time, wrinkled [like raisins]. They were dried. After they were retrieved she put them in a small bag, maybe a little cloth bag. And it was always hung up.
[3] And sometime later, perhaps when it might be winter, at this time here that old lady brought out those dried blueberries. She submersed them in water here, kind of like some medicines. So they started to rehydrate as she added them in here, soaking those blueberries. Liquid was poured in for some time there when she soaked them. When we tasted them they were just like fresh new blueberries. They looked like [fresh-picked] blueberries. And it was like they were still growing and they tasted just good.
[4] So in any event, that’s how she taught us things. We really were foolish. That’s why we don’t know what all the different things were that she put in there, as that old lady taught us to no avail.
The Use of Fire
[1] Today I still search for ways to tell about these things which